


Void

by most_curiously_blue_eyes



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, M/M, Pre-Slash, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 03:09:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/most_curiously_blue_eyes/pseuds/most_curiously_blue_eyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a universe where Spock Prime never meets James Kirk, Spock makes all the wrong decisions as captain of the Enterprise. What follows is an overwhelming void.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Void

They all look to him as he enters the bridge, and he can not stand the emotions clearly visible on their faces; Vulcans never did well with emotions, be it those directed at them or those running deep inside them - now possibly even more so. He hesitates, imperceptibly to the eyes of Humans - or, indeed, non-Vulcans - when he glances at the empty captain's chair; then, he takes his usual position at his science post, his back to his crew-mates.

'Captain, the course?...' Lieutenant Sulu asks, hopeful despite all evidence pointing to the fact that any kind of hope is in vain, for there is none left for any of them.

'I am not the captain of this vessel,' Spock corrects in a low voice. He does not turn to face the lieutenant, he does not, in fact, look up from his console at all. 'Please continue on the course that has been set before now. Nothing has changed,' he states, because obviously the bridge crew requires his verbal confirmation of that truth.

They have nowhere to be. They have no destination as they float aimlessly throughout the universe. Abandoned, for Starfleet is no more, the Federation is crumbling on itself, chaos and violence in place of the order and peace that are no longer.

He failed.

 

*

 

_The cadet is nowhere near the emergency pod, nowhere near where he was supposed to remain as he was stranded on the surface of Delta Vega; the pod was built to provide acceptable temperature in any environment and, more importantly, it was to provide relative safety from hostile creatures. To leave the pod was an illogical choice, but Spock should have known: cadet James Kirk is a highly irrational individual, one who would not accept the merits of logic in a dire situation._

_Fortunately, Spock had made sure the cadet was dressed appropriately for the climate on the surface. He may have proved inadequate in all his other decisions as acting captain of the Enterprise, but at least this one time, he had done the right thing, as cadet Kirk clearly did not stay in the pod to await rescue from the Starfleet outpost in the vicinity._

_Spock sends two security officers to search for the cadet and heads off in the opposite direction himself to broaden the spectre and to increase the chance of coming across Kirk, aware that the probability is still very low; there is a storm closing in, its predicted outbreak in approximately sixty four point seven minutes. They have to find the cadet before the blizzard makes it impossible to lock on to their positions for safe beam up._

_He has been walking in the direction of a frozen cave complex when he sees an unmistakeable splatter of red on the ground; the stark contrast of blood –_ Human blood – _on the snow brings up unwanted images in his mind. He refuses to let emotion overcome him as he follows the trail of blood, noticing with dismay that while at first, the irregular pattern of splatters indicates a struggle, it transforms soon into a single track of something heavy and immovable being dragged over the snow by something that leaves deep tracks of its own._

_He might be too late, again._

_He will not forgive himself if he is._

 

*

 

Spock does not possess a so-called “favourite colour”. Indeed, he finds the predilection some individuals exhibited towards one manifestation of white light refracting in an oxygen-based atmosphere over the others quite illogical. He does understand the need of differentiating colours, as vision is among the senses most essential to further cognition and objective classification of worlds and universes that had not been sufficiently described before. Furthermore, he believes marking varying functions in societies, even as small and concentrated as starships, by use of colours indicating specific skill-sets for comfort – such as the Starfleet had effectively done – to be entirely reasonable and not questionable in the slightest; additionally, he considers certain fondness that resulted from associating the colours to their functions completely natural, at least for more humanoid species. He does not, however, understand the inclination to prefer one hue to another in the aesthetic sense.

That being said, Spock finds himself irrevocably drawn to the blue colour of James Kirk's eyes as they stare, unblinking, locked on the ceiling above his bed in the Medical Bay. For as many days since the Human's hospitalization, he had been coming to his separate room to sit by his bedside. It appears as though it is a ritual that helps him keep calm as he performs his daily duties later in the day; he has been unable to meditate since the destruction of his planet and the events that followed did nothing to help remedy the situation. The only moments at which he can retain a state akin to the Vulcan stability and peace of mind are the same moments when he sits on the uncomfortable chair by Kirk's bed and lets himself be lost in the blue depths of the Human's eyes.

He cannot explain this fixation he has with the cadet. He wonders if the obsession has formed out of guilt and grief or had there been a different reason altogether. He cannot tell; it is illogical to spend so much time in the company of this particular patient, but he does it anyway and it prevents him from going insane. Thankfully, Doctor McCoy is not trying to keep him away. He seems to think it does not matter if anyone is present in the room or not. He appears to have given up. They all do.

Kirk has been in a state of unresponsiveness bordering on comatose following his rescue. Despite his best efforts, Doctor McCoy's numerous treatments have proved as of yet disappointingly ineffective: the cadet is not showing any improvement to his condition. Doctor McCoy suspects the trauma, blood loss and hypothermia Kirk had suffered from collectively led to brain damage that can not be effectively treated aboard an under-equipped starship, where there are no qualified medical staff specialising in brain surgery. Currently, there exists no place where the young Human can hope to be treated.

With the situation as such, Kirk remains as he is, stranded in a state between life and death, looking off into space and seeing... Spock does not know what the cadet is really seeing, or if he is seeing anything at all with his impossibly blue eyes, widened all the time in a blank expression somehow reminiscent of pure terror.

 

*

 

_The trail of blood cuts off suddenly and is replaced by the tracks of a vehicle; an irrational hope gleams in Spock's mind as he follows the tracks all the way to the Starfleet outpost, where he is met by a loud Human engineer and the knowledge that at least this decision of his did not have grave consequences._

_James Kirk is still alive._

_He lets himself feel relief for a moment before the seriousness of the circumstances truly catch up with him: cadet Kirk is unconscious and severely injured; he suffers from mild hypothermia and according to Mister Scott, he displays signs of an allergic reaction to some kind of venom, most likely injected by the beast that injured him._

_He might not be dead yet, but soon, he will be._

 

*

 

'You need to sleep, Spock,' Nyota said as she was leaving the bridge to get some rest in her quarters. The Vulcan remembers a time when he has been welcome to join her and sleep by her side through a haze. That time is no more, like so many things in his life, rendered so by his own actions.

It occurs to him that he might have been punishing himself, but the thought flies his mind under closer scrutiny. After the events that had taken place, it was only logical that he terminated the romantic relationship between himself and Nyota, who he feels deserves better than to be subjected to the hardships a connection of this kind with him would put her under. He lost his Mother and his bondmate when Vulcan was destroyed; that, combined with the joint terror of billions of the planet's inhabitants at their time of dying caused an emotional instability in him, an instability that only deepened and led him to make a grievous error in judgement.

He had marooned James Kirk on Delta Vega.

He does not need to sleep; he can not fall asleep. Vulcans very probably do not have nightmares and it is not nightmares that he fears would overcome him, had he closed his eyes; instead, the emptiness, the dark void where his bonds used to be in his mind would make itself known, as it had done once when he tried to meditate.

Vulcans can survive whole weeks with no sleep and only days with no meditation. Spock is aware his time is running short. He does not care. At present, he is content with fulfilling bridge duties, flying aimlessly across space and visiting James Kirk in the Medical Bay, watching him numbly and _regretting_.

He refuses communication from his Father. It would do nothing to help.

 

*

 

_'Dammit, you fucking hobgoblin, he's practically a corpse thanks to you! I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker!' Doctor McCoy bellows when Spock asks if cadet Kirk would make a full recovery. Spock knows of the doctor's affiliation with the cadet, so he feels he understands McCoy's fury, directed solely at him. He is aware he had made the wrong decisions despite being told otherwise, and he has no justification. Wishing things had turned out otherwise is illogical._

_It does not stop him from wishing for it, however._

_'Jesus Christ, I don't even know what's wrong with him. His vitals are, well, not fine, but pretty normal,' says McCoy days later, when nothing he does works; the blood the cadet lost has been replenished, his hypothermia treated, but he will not come out of his unresponsive state. 'It's like he fucking crashed, but I have no idea how to reset him. I don't know where's the fucking reset button. I hate it, Spock.'_

_Spock finds he hates it as well._

_That night, even though he cannot meditate, he finds a solution._

 

*

 

It has been eleven days since they retrieved Kirk from Delta Vega against clear orders that did not allow anyone to separate from the Starfleet remains gathered in the Laurentian system when they make contact with another vessel. The USS Bradbury is en route to one of the Starbases for provisions; the Enterprise has no need for those, as it is adequately stocked to last five years in space without the requirement to resupply. Spock exchanges polite greetings with the other vessel's captain (Captain Abbott, Spock remembers, and what a useless piece of information it is now) and inquires about medical staff that may be more adequately prepared to heal neurological trauma.

Having gained nothing, he wishes the captain _peace and long life_ and terminates communication. There are no consequences of his deflection, of his refusal to follow useless orders; there is nobody that could reinforce such consequences. Starfleet is no more.

'Lieutenant Sulu, you have the con,' he says and heads to the Medical Bay.

Cadet Kirk's eyes are locked onto the same spot they are every day. Spock knows the nurses take great care to close them for the night and to apply sufficient moisture to them at regular intervals; when he is present at the cadet's bedside, he does it by himself, preferring for lack of interruptions to his visits from the medical crew. Sometimes, he is displeased to find his hand shaking as he carefully applies eye drops to the Human's eyes, and he watches in helpless fascination as the liquid runs in tiny rivulets down Kirk's face.

_Like tears._

Tonight is one of those times.

'I am afraid,' he says softly, unsure if the Human is able to hear his words. 'What I am about to do is risky even when attempted in the most favourable circumstances. Our circumstances are far from favourable. Far from adequate. Your brain might be damaged beyond repair. Doing this may lead to my death,' he pauses and lets out a breath he did not realize he was holding. 'And yet, I find that I do not fear death. Indeed, I would welcome it, for it would be a way to escape the reality which I have inflicted upon this universe.' He places the fingers of his right hand on the Human's meld points, marvelling at the warmth of the rough skin against his fingertips. 'I am afraid of not being able to fix this. To fix _you_ ,' he whispers, closing his eyes and still seeing the blue gaze under his lids. He is ready. 'My mind to your mind...'

 

*

 

_He is in a small garden and there are people around, but they do not look at him. They never do, as though he does not exist or exists and is a bother; only, it is not him, because this is not his mind, this is not his place-_

_'Hi! Are you lost?' Asks a boy, no more than ten. His hair is light and his eyes are impossibly blue. Spock averts his gaze, shakes his head._

_'I came here to find you,' he says._

_'No, probably not. You're looking for the real one,' the boy corrects him and grins. 'Hey, I can show you the way. The real one is-'_

 

_-the scenery changes and Spock finds himself inside a building that he is unfamiliar with; school, his or somebody else's mind supplies and Spock recognizes the wide hall and the metal lockers by the walls. There are students crowding the hall, but they are nothing more than a part of the scenery, as though in a dream: a background noise that serves no purpose but to fill the emptiness._

_'You're not wanted here,' says the only inhabitant of the memory who is truly there, blond and blue-eyed and intense. 'You'll only destroy what's left. Go away.'_

_'No,' Spock protests. 'I came to fix...'_

_'You can't fix us. We're broken. Go away.'_

_Spock shakes his head, is about to speak-_

 

_-the corpses are everywhere, rotting away in carelessly arranged piles, too numerous to be burned. Why burn them, anyway, when there are no scavengers around and nobody will care? It does not matter, because the planet is dead. Starfleet has not come to save them and now it is too late._

_'They didn't see his face, you know,' Spock hears and turns around to see the same blue-eyed boy, maybe slightly older, but no longer than thirteen. 'I saw it. I saw him when he ordered four thousand people to be killed because he thought it was the right thing to do. He almost escaped. He would have escaped, so I killed him.'_

_'You are not a killer,' Spock informs him and the boy laughs bitterly._

_'You clearly know nothing about me,' he says. 'Tarsus IV was a nightmare. Hunger, disease, fear, we had that aplenty. But you know what was the worst?'_

_'I do not know,' Spock replies, awaiting an answer._

_'Of course you don't,' the boy agrees. 'People, Spock. Even though they should have united against him, they-'_

 

_-a woman, smiling at another boy, carefully avoiding looking at him. It's Christmas again and he gets presents just like his brother, but he wishes he got nothing instead, at least then he could somehow justify the urge to cry-_

 

_-a surge of adrenaline as the car speeds towards the edge of the cliff, a feeling of being_ alive _pumping in his veins, and the sheer exhilaration of knowing this is it, this is that moment, this is where everything ends, but then in a flash of panic he jumps out and hangs on, wishing he wasn't afraid, wishing he could let go-_

 

_-she laughs as he confesses to her and says, 'You're pathetic, Jimmy', and of course tomorrow the whole school will know about his stupid crush on the most popular girl-_

 

_-Bones pats his head, his first real friend, and passes him a bottle of bourbon that probably will not trigger an allergic reaction. He grins and looks at Spock, then his eyes narrow as he says,_

_'Stop it. Don't find the real one. We're happier like this. You know we're happier like this.'_

 

_-the beast trips him by the ankle and pulls him closer, and he screams when hundreds of small, sharp teeth sink into his freezing body, but the beast does not intend to eat him just yet and so he struggles, hoping against all hope, because there is no such thing as a no-win scenario and he can win this yet, he can, he just needs to free himself and run to the Starfleet outpost, but he is getting weaker and he is scared and it hurts to breathe; the beast throws him down onto the hard ground and he thinks it is the end, and stupidly enough, he remembers Spock, he remembers the Kobayashi Maru, he remembers their fight and the furious brown eyes and he thinks-_

 

_-nobody wants him, nobody has ever wanted him, he's broken and damaged and no good at all._

_'I want you,' Spock says softly, reaching to touch the boy's hand with his, and it is the truth. Then-_

 

_-the scenery changes again and Spock is on the bridge of the Enterprise, empty but for the familiar blue-eyed Human, slouched comfortably on the captain's chair as though he belongs there, asleep. His chest is rising and falling steadily, and he looks at ease. Spock feels something tighten in his chest and is mildly annoyed at his own imprecision before he lets himself relax as he watches the Human's breathing pattern contently. He does not wish to disturb the cadet's peaceful slumber, but with a sense of sadness he realizes he must._

_He touches his elbow and lightly shakes his form, trying to reign in the sudden wave of protectiveness that threatens to overwhelm him as he witnesses James Kirk's moment of utter vulnerability._

_The Human stirs and blinks sleepily before looking up at Spock; his eyes are blue, so impossibly blue and wide and locked into his, filling him with regret, sadness, grief, but also hope and joy and_ want _-_

 

-and he falls out of the meld to see those blue, blue eyes staring at him intently, _seeing him_ for the first time since... before. The only thing he can think for a fraction of second is, _he is alive_ , and then Doctor McCoy pushes him away, evidently lured into the room by the medical equipment making enough noise to alert the whole ship.

Spock allows the professionals to work at stabilizing the cadet, but he does not leave the room, unwilling to be anywhere but in the Human's proximity. It takes hours before they are finally alone again, as doctor McCoy stubbornly refuses to be separated from the cadet for an extended period of time; and when finally Spock can speak to Kirk with no witnesses, he finds he could only say:

'I am sorry.'

 

*

 

In the blur of events that follows Kirk's awakening, few things remain certain: that Vulcan is no more. That Earth, too, had been destroyed shortly afterwards, and with it the Starfleet command and most of the Federation government that had had the misfortune of convening on Earth at the time of the Narada's attack. That Captain Pike is most likely dead. Had Spock listened to the cadet, they might have been able to prevent this. Had he listened to the cadet, everything might not have been lost.

Twenty seven days after Earth's destruction and the dissolution of Starfleet, twenty seven days after the death of billions of people on both Vulcan and Earth, twenty seven days after James Kirk had almost died on Delta Vega, the Enterprise has a goal again.

'Captain, the course?' Lieutenant Sulu asks, daring to show a small smile, hopeful against all odds.

Spock, from his science station, looks at the captain's chair and nods almost imperceptibly, meeting the confident, impossibly blue eyes of the exceptional young man who was born in space in the middle of hell breaking loose, who survived another hell as a child and who was made invincible because of it.

'We're going after that bastard, Mister Sulu,' says their chosen Captain, James Tiberius Kirk, and Spock knows that despite everything, this is not a completely no-win scenario. Not anymore. Back from the bottomless void came a ray of illogical hope, a small, irrational bright light, burning an intense, impossible blue colour. 'The Narada is still out there. We're going to find it and give those bastards exactly what they deserve. Plot a course for Andor, for a start. We'll figure it out from there.'

 

*

 

They do.

 

**Author's Note:**

> My very first finished Reboot!Trek fic. Woah, was I scared. But I liked writing it and it is by no means my last piece of Star Trek fiction, no matter what response this gets.  
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
